Based On A True Story
by ladie red
Summary: Harry Dresden, Wizard for hire....is apparently a character in a book series. Well, that's news to one slightly similar Harry Dresden, Wizard for hire, standing there with said first book in the series in his hand. TVverse with references to first book.
1. Reporters and A Really Angry Murphy

**Our wizard _actually_ belongs to Jim Butcher and I suppose the stupid SciFi channel had some input as well... but they obviously didn't realise the significance of an actual decent idea... maybe another channel wouldn't have cancelled.**

**Spoilers for the entire TV series (set sometime after Second City) and references the first book, 'Storm Front'.**

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"Harry?" came Bob's voice from downstairs, "Ah, Harry…we have a slight situation down here."

I groaned; as one would after being woken up at nine on a Sunday morning, especially when you had spent the last three days chasing down a rampaging madman with a little bit of magic at his fingertips. It had been rather messy and rather exhausting, so I was actually rather relishing the idea of sleeping in until, well, noon at the very least would have been nice.

"Seriously, Harry. Situation, a rather big situation." Bob tried again, bless him.

I, for one, was having none of it, "Unless it's Ancient Mai carrying a pick-axe flanked by Morgan with a giant big sword then I don't really want to know." I called back, sitting up anyway and rubbing my eyes. Sleep was apparently going to continue eluding me for a while yet because the truth of the matter was that if Bob called it a situation then it definitely was a situation.

"Murphy's not threatening to kick down the door, is she?" I called down the stairs, as I shoved on a pair of pants.

"Harry, I really do think you should come down here.", was Bob's only response.

What worried me and immediately ended the debate as to whether I should have a shower first before answering to Bob's beck and call was the slight change of tone in his voice.

Now, I have no clue whether it's because he's dead or not, but Bob can be very monotonous. In fact, he usually is monotonous, so when he's quite suddenly not, my spidey sense does more than just tingle.

So, without another moment's hesitation I grabbed my hockey stick and bolted down the stairs, "What! What!…..oh." I lowered the hockey stick and gazed out my kitchen windows at a total loss for words.

"They're out by the shop front too." Bob said calmly, arms crossed beside me.

I blinked, staring from the windows and back to Bob, "Well, what are you doing out here, then?" I asked him equally, absolutely transfixed by the twenty or so people trying to see through my windows and into my apartment.

"Luckily I actually walked in here, rather than through the wall so they are none the wiser. Shall I just disappearing into a puff of smoke then? Return to whence I came?"

I did not appreciate sarcastic ghosts in times like this, "Who the hell are they?"

Bob gave a patronizing look, "Well, Harry, my calculated guess, noting of course the large cameras and little notebooks; is that they are reporters."

"Yes, well spotted Bob, but why are they here?"

As luck would have it, I had pulled the screens down over the windows of the front door the night before. the lab had been a mess and Bob had staged a rebellion and refused to work down there until I cleaned it up, which led to him trying to solve the meaning of life (or something most probably of equal importance) in my living room, glowing numbers hanging limply in the air. So in a roundabout sort of way, the fact that I lacked in any sort of organisational skills, something that drove Bob insane, had actually given us a slight bit of cover, the kitchen windows now the only vantage point for what was indeed a pack of reporters trying to peer inside.

A loud rap came at the door, and an immediately recognisable voice followed not too long after, "Harry! Damnit Harry, I swear to god if you don't open the door this instant these idiotic reporters will be the very least of your problems!"

Murphy sounded slightly pissed; which wasn't all that unusual, actually. Murphy had a tendency to be forever slightly pissed at me; it was simply how our little relationship worked. I scared the begezus out of her, and instead of admitting to it, in true Murphy style, she threw up a wall and instead threatened to arrest me.

"Dresden, I have handcuffs and a gun on me and quite frankly, I'm willing to use either at the moment. Open your stupid door!"

I gave Bob a significant look, "And walk." I added quickly.

He sighed and trooped off down the hall looking thoroughly disgruntled as I braced myself and pulled open my front door. Thousands of cameras clicked in my face and many Susan-type women began calling my name, "Mr. Dresden, Mr. Dresden…..Harry, care to comment on……"

"What the hell is going on?" I asked the gaggle at large, completely ignoring Murphy who grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and pushed me back inside, "Don't say a word." She hissed as she stepped inside and slammed the door after her.

A lot of weird stuff happens in my line of work but this was another type of weird altogether. It's not often Murphy knows more about what's going on than me but today the look on her face blatantly told me otherwise.

"Care to tell me what's happening, Murphy?" I asked again, looking from the silhouettes of the reporters dancing against the screens down to the scowl on Murphy's face.

"My name isn't Karrin!" She snapped.

I blinked at her for a moment, "Yes, I realised that, Murph, what's up?"

"It's Connie. My name is Connie." She continued, furiously pulling a paperback book from the insides of her jacket, a book which looked like it had been stuffed in there without redemption, its pages curling and the spine bent. She flick forward a few pages, found what she was looking for and began to read aloud, "_Karrin Murphy was waiting for me outside the Madison. Karrin and I are a study in contrasts. Where I am tall and lean, she's short and stocky. Where I have dark hair and dark eyes, she's got Shirley Temple blond locks_….what the hell Dresden! Since when did I have Shirley Temple locks!"

I just stared at her, totally bewildered to what the hell she was talking about. Usually it's the other way around, but with the tables turned I now suddenly understood why she was always so frustrated at me.

Whoa Murph, you lost me. You lost me completely and utterly. Why don't you sit down and actually calmly and lucidly explain to me what…."

She slammed the book down on the kitchen table to show just how utterly un-calm she really was, "Pick it up." She demanded.

I raised my eyebrows at her, "Seriously Murphy, you're beginning to worry me slightly here, what's going…."

"Pick it up," she repeated, "and read the back."

Best not to argue with a woman's scorn, I picked it up, noting the title, 'Storm Front' and warily read the back of the book,

"_Harry Dresden is the best at what he does. Well, technically, he's the only at what he does. So when the Chicago P.D. has a case that transcends mortal creativity or capability, they come to him for answers. For the "everyday" world is actually full of strange and magical things -- and most of them don't play well with humans. That's where Harry comes in. Takes a wizard to catch a -- well, whatever. _

_There's just one problem. Business, to put it mildly, stinks. So when the police bring him in to consult on a grisly double murder committed with black magic, Harry's seeing dollar signs. But where there's black magic, there's a black mage behind it. And now that mage knows Harry's name. And that's when things start to get... interesting. _

_Magic. It can get a guy killed"_

There was complete silence apart from the slight muffled sound of the reporters outside.

I finally looked up at Murphy to see something truly dangerous in her eyes, "So," she finally asked, "How much does a biography rake in these days?"

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**Let me know if your confused or want something explained...or if you like where this is going. I have part of the next chapter written which will include more Bob and then Murphy meeting Morgan.**


	2. A Really Angry Murphy then add Morgan

** Thankyou to all my lovely reviewers...here's chapter two!**

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My brain _usually_ works rather fast.

A wizard's brain is _usually_ required to work rather fast due to the many life threatening situations we find ourselves in.

So as my brain slowly cranked into gear I realised that although there was no powerful spells being flung across the room, no running for my life taking place and absolutely squat threats being given to me by some horrid beastie, I still realised that this was very much, a life threatening situation.

I looked down at the book in my hands, then up at Murphy, "What's in it?"

Murphy glared at me, "Well Dresden, quite a lot of stuff actually, you see that I've noted the parts that I found were worth reading." She gestured down at the book in my hand.

Murphy had bent down a few of the pages, something I would have scolded her for in any other situation, but with my ever so wizardly wisdom I decided now was not the best moment to press the point, instead, turning to the first folded page, I read as she continued to rant, "First, may I ask why fictional me knows more about all this magic crap than I do?"

Well, that had nothing to do with me, trust Murphy to blame me when she was the one that absolutely refused to believe what she knew was the truth. I'd given up honestly trying to explain anything to her because all she did was get angry at me, like now.

"Murph, you said so yourself, you don't want to know." I said distractedly, rather more focused on what I was reading in the damn book to worry about Murphy's qualms. This particular chapter had the main character, aptly named Harry Dresden, at a crime scene with one Lieutenant Karrin Murphy discussing in rather large detail how two slightly familiar victims could have their hearts explode out of their chests. What worried me though, were the words being tossed around this fictional conversation. The Harry character and the Murphy character were standing there discussing, quite openly, Thaumaturgy and a vampire named Bianca.

Alarm bells had long ago started ringing in the back of my head but as Bianca's name jumped out at me, then a mobster named Tommy Tomm, my legs gave way and I collapsed myself into one of the dining chairs, staring aghast at the book, then at the windows where the reporters were hovering outside, then back up at Murphy who immediately closed her gob as she saw the look on my face, "You didn't know about this." It wasn't a question, she was merely stating what she already knew deep down inside.

And she was spot on. How the hell did my life (give or take a few weird variations) become part of a story book. I hadn't blabbed, Murphy didn't know enough to blab and, rereading this particular excerpt, we were the only two witnesses at that particular crime scene apart from a bloke called Carmichael, who sounded like an even worse version of Kirmani. Yet Kirmani didn't know what Thaumaturgy was.

I opened my mouth to speak, closed it when nothing came out, swallowed dryly and tried again, "How many people have read this?" I finally managed to ask Murphy hoarsely.

She sat down opposite me and pushed the hair out of her face, looking slightly frazzled, "It's an apparent work of fiction published a month ago but it was suddenly connected to you, an actual person, yesterday when some kid who had already read the book walked past your office then blabbed to the rest of the world. I found a copy, spent the last three hours reading it."

This meant that several thousand people had read this book and had unknowingly stumbled onto something that was more real than they wanted to believe.

Like Bianca.

Her name seemed to be imprinted at the forefront of my mind and several unpleasant images of me getting attacked by a hoard of pissed vampires did nothing to rid my worry as another thought suddenly came to mind.

Oh crap; the High Council.

They hadn't been pleased when I had listed my profession in the phone book, but now a whole different book had been published; slightly larger than my 2x4 ad.

Slightly more detailed as well by the looks of things.

"Harry."

It wasn't Murphy who suddenly spoke my name but Bob. At least he had had the decency to walk up behind me and scare the life out of me that way rather than theatrically popping into existence out of nowhere.

Murphy frowned at this apparent stranger and Bob completely ignored her, as if she wasn't there.

I decided to remind him, throwing my head quickly in Murphy's direction, "Bob, what the hell are you….."

"His name is Bob?" Murphy asked quickly, gazing from me, to Bob, then down to the book on the table.

Bob continued to ignore her, instead fixing me with a meaningful look, "I've been sent to fetch you."

"To fetch me?"

"As in; Bob the Skull???" Murphy asked. This distracted both me and Bob for a moment, and we stared at her in shock. Her gaze went back to the book again and I swore quite suddenly and ferociously as I realised her source of information.

"Murph, what exactly is in that book…"

Bob cut in swiftly before I could finish, "Harry, Morgan is waiting for you in the Lab."

"Morgan!" Murphy demanded, sounding slightly angry, or maybe slightly hysterical, "There actually is a Morgan, as in the weird Warden man with the sword?"

Bob turned to her with a slight nod, "Precisely Lieutenant Murphy, although I have no idea how you managed to get hold of that information, it is indeed the….weird Warden man with the sword….oh, and he's rather angry at you Harry…well, more so than usual."

I felt a very large headache coming on and also, suddenly, my neck began to feel rather tender. My gaze once again went from the book to the reporters at the window, to Murphy and back to Bob. I suddenly felt like a tiny cornered mouse.

"I shouldn't have got out of bed this morning." I sighed, rubbing my face warily before clapping my hands together and turning to Murphy, "Right, time to leave Murph. As you heard, I have an appointment I need to attend to. Mind if I borrow the book?" I picked the book up and put a hand to her back, moving her quickly towards the door. She, of course, thought otherwise, stamping her foot down on mine causing us both to stop and me to let out a muffled oath. She ignored my pain, "So, you're not even going to explain this to me!"

"Look Murphy, I can only say that…."

"Morgan told me very wisely that if you didn't get rid of her this instant he'd cut off her head before yours." Bob cut in, glancing over his shoulder as if Morgan was moments away from running down the hall, sword raised.

Murphy spluttered slightly at the cutting off heads part, and just looked at me as if seeing me for the first time. An idea slowly began forming in my head and I turned to Bob with the first smile of the morning, "Morgan can't actually kill her, can he?"

Bob frowned at me, "No, she is a non-magical entity therefore beyond his jurisdiction."

"Right then, here's the thing Murph, you want an explanation, well this is the best I can give. I only ask of you three things….no welding police issue guns, no interrupting and no blabbing about my lab, gotcha?"

She frowned at me quizzically and Bob began to tut disapprovingly, "Harry, Murphy has no place…."

"Can't you just shut up, Bob!" I snapped quite suddenly out of nowhere. Bob appeared taken aback and I sighed, "Look, sorry, can we just go?"

Bob frowned at me but led the way as I grabbed Murphy's arm and pulled her down the hall. Stopping short at the large vault door, Bob walked right on through it and Murphy muttered a "Holy Shit," under her breath.

I glanced at her, "Stay behind me and just….." I trailed off and shrugged helplessly.

I had no helpful hints for her when meeting Morgan for the first time, he either scared you to death or threatened to kill you; both of those things potentially fatal.

I took a breath and yanked open the lab door, stepping in without looking around, pulling Murphy in behind me, pushing her into my chair and closing the door, all before I finally looked up at Morgan who had, by this stage, put his sword at my neck.

"Get the civilian out of here, Dresden." He began without preamble. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Murphy stand and reach for her gun, her sense of bravado never ceasing to astound me, "I am certainly no civilian, I am…."

"Sit down Murphy." I said shortly before glancing up at Morgan again, "Look Morgan, you want answers, she wants answers, heck, I want answers, so why don't we all lower our very sharp swords and just talk."

Morgan made no move to lower said sword and I tried again, "So, the Council wants off with my head, no explanation at all? You aren't actually going to do it with Murphy watching, are you? That is rather low, even for you."

Morgan pushed the sword closer to my neck and I felt blood begin to trickle before he slowly lowered the weapon, "I want off with your head Dresden, the Council wants an explanation. I would start talking if I were you."

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I sold my copy of Storm Front the other day (I'm broke, woe me) so I just made this fic a little more challanging to write...ah well, R&R!!!!!!**


	3. Murphy, Morgan and Miscomprehension

** HUGE thank-you's to all that have reviewed. Thanks to you I managed to finish another chapter. Sadly I am not one to be called organised and committed but because of you I have strived on! Sorry it took so long...enjoyz!**

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Okay, a bunch of rabid reporters outside my window, Morgan waving his sword around like he's something out of Highlander and Murphy, my lovely cop friend with a hand firmly hovering over her gun.

All because of some ridiculous book; some absurd bit of _fiction _that apparently shared a close resemblance to my day to day life.

True, my day to day life really had to be seen to be believed; but seriously, a book?

My two acquaintances had rather destructive weapons in their grasps, but me? My wand was on the other side of the room, just behind Morgan, my faithful hockey stick was out in the kitchen where I had left it earlier which only left me with my mother's shield bracelet.

Which was fortunate as it looked like both Morgan and Murphy looked like they were willing to use said weapons on me, said wizard.

"Explain Dresden." Morgan repeated

I sighed; one of those wary, 'no-matter-what-I-do-I'll-never-win,' kind of sighs, and chucked the book down on the table, "Have fun Bob."

Bob stuck his hand through the book, absorbed the information and had read the book in about two sixths of a millisecond. His response was the key to the next phase in my plan and he frowned down at the book then looked up at me, saying quiet evenly, "Oh dear Harry."

And my morale plummeted by several thousand feet and my plan took on a life of its own, "Look Morgan," I began quickly, sounding rather embarrassingly desperate, "I haven't even read the damn thing. Do you really think so low of me that I would break hundreds of years of silence just for my name in the spotlight and a little extra cash?"

Morgan simply blinked at me, "That's precisely how low my opinion is of you."

Well that wasn't totally unexpected. I turned to Murphy, "Murph, I…."

She ignored me and turned to Morgan, "He's been sleeping with a reporter."

I stared at her, completely aghast while Morgan merely gave a slight nod, "Yes, so I read."

"Wait, wait, wait, Susan's in there?"

"Oh, yes,' Murphy snapped, "There's one memorable occasion of you running up and down the street naked with her."

Even at this early point in the day I was already beyond shocked, already beyond astounded and all my mouth could do was just hang there limply, gaping at Murphy before finally managing to swallow and say dryly, "That…that, that definitely never happened."

She raised her eyebrows, "Well she must have a very over active imagination then."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, time-out Murphy," I held my hands in a 'T' to enforce this, "I thought you were on my side? This is nothing to do with me, I thought that was obvious by the 'bewildered-possum-caught-in-headlights' expression on my face."

Murphy's face softened ever-so slightly at this and she couldn't help a frazzled smile, "Harry, maybe this isn't your fault, but it's rather wishful thinking if you say it has 'nothing to do with you.' I was merely suggesting that maybe it was Susan that…"

"Susan doesn't know anything." I said flatly, "In fact Susan and I aren't really a 'Susan and I'. We're both good sources if need be, but apart from that we keep it…"

"Completely professional." Murphy finished

I shrugged, a smirk playing on my lips, "Most of the time."

Morgan finally stepped in, "Dresden, I am not here to talk about your sex life."

"Well, thank god for that." I said with a mock sigh of relief.

He scowled at me and I waved the almost lecture away, "Seriously Morgan, either you believe me or you don't. Cut off my head if you please, but until then I'm going to attempt at sorting out what precisely went wrong in my little Harry-verse and how the hell I'm going to fix it."

I turned from him to my bookshelf without another word and ran my fingers along the many book spines, trying to actually clear my head and begin the process called thinking.

It wasn't going too well, it was rather distracting with two rather intimidating people following your every move, so a glance at Bob told him to get the ball rolling.

He frowned, but, of course, had an explanation ready, "Could be a wizard controlling a lower level spirit, one so harmless that could slip through your defences."

I shook my head as my noggin cranked into gear, "No can't be, I think I would have noticed any kind of entity eventually. What about one of those, oh damn, what do you call it, a geoma…a geome…."

"A Geomantradora spell?" Bob completed, already shaking his head.

"Do your homework, Dresden," Morgan snapped warily, "Geomantrodora needs the power of a solar eclipse. Fresh, not bottled. There hasn't been an eclipse in this area for many years now."

He looked slightly put out by the enormous smile I gave him as he scolded me, but I had realised that this was Morgan's reluctant admittance that maybe it wasn't all totally my fault, "Nice to have you on the team, buddy!"

He glared at me then turned to the bookshelf, "Your collection is useless Dresden. None of these books date past the 60's. The art has changed greatly since then; you are unwise not to follow."

"Sure, Morgan. If you want to spend a small fortune on me then go right ahead, deck me out in all the wizarding mod-cons. I for one, am not made out of money."

"Noted." He said flatly as he pulled out a rather large volume from the shelf and opened it, running a finger down the page, "Here, what if it's merely…."

"You people are useless." Murphy cut in abruptly, causing Morgan, Bob and I to look up at her in astounded perplexment. We had quite blatantly forgotten she was there.

Morgan and I glanced at each other, not ones for having our pride scolded, "Lieutenant," Morgan began slowly, "You are outside of your area of expertise. I suggest you leave now, avoid becoming messed up in yet another one of Dresden's mistakes."

There was silence as Murphy turned to me with a raised eyebrow, arms crossed, having not moved an inch. I stole her raised eyebrow, directed the expression of disbelief at Morgan and asked, "Did you really think that was going to work?"

Morgan's mandatory scowl returned, so I began to ignore him again, "Why, are we useless, then, Murph?"

She snorted and shook her head, picking up the stupid book again, "I'm sure that mumbo jumbo stuff works for you lot; but seen as this is a book; it must have an author. Wouldn't it be easier just to go talk to the guy before jumping to conclusions? I mean, I could be wrong, and forgive me, good sirs, if I am, but it does seem like the logical next step."

I pursed my lips, cocked my head slightly to one side and glanced at Morgan. His scowl had grown larger and he took a look at his very snazzy, not just a watch, watch and sighed, "I don't have time for this, I have to meet with the Council within the hour."

"And what are you going to tell them?" I asked sweetly, trying a last ditch attempt to woo him.

"I do not know quite yet Dresden, so I advise you to waste no time getting to the bottom of this. And be on your guard; Bianca wasn't all that friendly when she spoke of you this morning."

Bianca. Oh, dear.

I opened my mouth to let rip some not very pleasant words, blinked in the process and upon opening my eyes again, discovered that Morgan was gone.

"Damn it Morgan," I shouted to nothing, "You've spoken with Bianca?"

Of course, he didn't grace me with a response.

I sighed and bit back the urge to bang my head against the wall, turning instead to Murphy, who still had her eyes transfixed on the spot where Morgan had stood only seconds ago, "He disappeared." She stated.

I didn't bother to answer, instead, pulling my coat off of the back of the chair, grabbing my wand, stuffing it in my inner pocket and heading for the door.

"Can you all disappear?" came Murphy's voice from behind me, "Can _you_ disappear?"

I stopped then and turned back to look at her, "Gods, Murph, what I wouldn't give to disappear on days like this." I sighed wistfully and shook my head, time to focus on the problem, "Come on then, who's this author?"

She gave herself a little shake and stood, "Right, sorry. His name is Jim Butcher."

I glanced at Bob as we left, "Mind the fort."

He gave me a curt nod as I shut the lab door after Murphy and I couldn't help feel my anger build over this whole, slightly frustrating mess as I caught sight of the reporters outside of my front window. I grabbed my hockey stick out of the kitchen, feeling with relief the pure power surge through the staff as I touched it, "God help Jim Butcher."

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**R&R ;)**


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